Double Trouble
by KLMeri
Summary: Lately McCoy has been bringing his concerns to the First Officer. Someone is not unaware of this. Gen.
**Title** : Double Trouble
 **Author** : klmeri  
 **Fandom** : Star Trek AOS  
 **Characters** : Kirk, Spock, McCoy  
 **Summary** : Lately McCoy has been bringing his concerns to the First Officer. Someone is not unaware of this.

* * *

Before the door to his office slides completely open, Commander Spock is alerted to a new presence by the sound of " _We've got trouble_."

He turns from his computer console toward the doorway without any change to his countenance, for the uninvited guest must never know that internally Spock had just experienced a zing of alarm. Of course, given who has come to see him, that alarm may be entirely unnecessary. It isn't the first time such a dire pronouncement has preceded Dr. McCoy's arrival, and from past experience Spock knows there is a high probability that the doctor is exaggerating whatever situation has prompted this particular visit.

"Hello, Doctor," he greets the human.

With a soft grunt, McCoy seems to assume his interruption of the Vulcan's work is welcome and settles into a chair next to the desk, crossing one leg over the other as if he intends to stay awhile. Spock raises an eyebrow.

Approximately six weeks ago, following a mission that had been a deadly experience for both Spock and McCoy, the doctor had adopted a routine of visiting Science and its department head. He called it 'checking in', a habit that seemed to address some personal concern of McCoy's rather than any formal duty required of a CMO.

Spock found the first handful of visits to be extremely awkward. Now he accepts McCoy's presence without question, for he would have to spare too much time otherwise in trying to comprehend the motives of a human he has proclaimed to rarely understand at all.

"We've got trouble," McCoy repeats, slouching down in the chair. He eyes Spock critically. "Did you eat lunch?"

Spock can think of no connection between the two concerns. "Dr. McCoy, you are the ship's senior medical officer. If you wish to stay apprised of the timing of my meals, such information is readily available to you."

"Figures. Ask a Vulcan a simple question, get a convoluted answer."

"No," Spock concedes with a touch of irritation, "I have not had the midday meal."

McCoy frowns. "It's gettin' kind of late to take lunch. I sure hope you weren't planning to skip it, Spock, because then I _would_ have to start monitoring your meal schedule."

Spock is no fool. He would never admit that skipping the meal was precisely his plan. No, it would be altogether more efficient to turn the conversation from its present course.

Facing fully away from the computer, Spock sets his elbows on his chair's arms and steeples his fingers. "What brings you here, Dr. McCoy?"

"What I said—trouble."

"A point which you have made no less than three times. Am I to assume you find yourself in a dilemma? If the handling of this 'trouble' requires more authority than you currently have, I suppose it would be logical to bring it to me as I am the second highest-ranking member of the ship." He almost hesitates, because that logic is far too easy to follow. "Is the trouble... Captain Kirk?"

"Half right, Mr. Spock. The trouble's definitely Jim." McCoy sits up and leans forward slightly. "But I'm not foolish enough to want to deal with it by myself. As soon as I heard, I came straight here."

Interesting. Spock will have to think more upon that distinction at a later time. He requests, "Please explain."

McCoy's mouth curls at one corner. "Explain about Jim, or explain why I think you're the only one who can help me?"

"I would think one explanation would lead to the other."

"Knew I'd picked right," the doctor says, his smile widening.

Spock is somewhat alarmed again. Luckily his control over his body's reactions is superb.

McCoy sobers all of a sudden. "Now mind you I heard this through an unofficial channel."

"Duly noted."

The doctor draws a breath, releases it slowly. "Command plans to send someone to the Enterprise to oversee our next mission."

Not unexpected, thinks Spock, although he senses something about this fact makes the CMO uneasy. "Do you know this person's identity?" he asks.

"Commodore Wesley."

Wesley. Yes, it was extremely prudent—and wise—of the doctor to come straight to him with such information. He will have to ask Lt. Uhura to intercept Command's communiqué before it reaches Kirk. Following that, he must devise a method for presenting this unappealing news to Jim.

"I know that look," McCoy says.

Spock blinks. He is certain he has no look.

"You're trying to figure out how to tell our captain that he can't shoot Wesley out of an airlock."

...How uncannily accurate.

Spock looks at McCoy with more interest. "You are aware of the Captain's dislike for the commodore."

"Considering what happened, Jim's animosity is understandable."

"No regulations were violated. At the time Commodore Wesley had the authority to commandeer the Enterprise."

"Which almost ended with us getting killed."

"The ship was in less danger than you think, Doctor."

But McCoy sighs. "Not the ship, Spock. _Us._ You and me."

Spock pauses. He recalls that moment with too much clarity to be comforting. Nyota told him later that Wesley had declared the First Officer and CMO expendable then tried to force Kirk to abandon Spock and McCoy to their fate on the hostile planet below. Apparently Jim had maintained his calm up until Wesley relieved him of duty and ordered Sulu to break orbit. Then Kirk snapped, his (admittedly uncouth) response to Wesley's plan being to show the commodore his right hook. Security had had to forcibly drag their captain off the Bridge. Between the Chief of Security turning a blind eye and Mr. Scott's ingenuity at engineering a jail-break, Kirk had gotten out of the brig in time to thwart Wesley and rescue his officers from certain death.

A maneuver for which Spock is still very grateful, despite that he could not publically applaud Jim for assaulting a Federation officer.

"Spock?"

Spock realizes then that he had momentarily forgotten McCoy is in the room with him. "If the Commodore has been granted a second assignment aboard the Enterprise, it seems he experienced little to no ramifications for his actions."

"I think you and I both know that Jim got in more trouble than that weasel." McCoy looks unhappy. "This might be someone's way of baiting Jim, to see if they can find fault with his conduct, possibly jeopardize his captaincy. There're plenty of admirals who didn't want him to take command of the flagship."

"You may be right, Doctor. We must presume the Captain will be under close scrutiny when the time comes."

"So what can _we_ do?"

Spock considers the question.

"I don't expect an answer right away," the doctor adds quickly. "I just need to know we're going to do something."

"Of course."

McCoy sighs again, this time with obvious relief, and stands up. "Drop me a note once you've had time to think about it." He heads for the door.

Spock shocks himself by calling out to the human before he actually knows what he wants to say.

The doctor pauses at the threshold to the office, looking back at the Vulcan expectantly.

There are many acceptable things Spock could say to cover up his lapse, such as _thank you for bringing this to my attention_ or _your concern for the captain is appreciated._ Instead he says what seems most relevant, because McCoy is leaving and Spock discovers he is not quite ready for the man to go. "If you have no immediate plans, I will break for lunch now and we might... ruminate upon this matter together?"

McCoy's smile comes back, wider than ever. "Why, Mr. Spock, I approve of that idea."

Spock shuts down his terminal and comes to his feet. "Let us go, then," he murmurs.

It isn't until they are away from Science and at the end of the deck's corridor where it would be no easy feat to escape that McCoy says, voice mischievous, "If we're going to be lunch buddies from now on, you should call me Leonard."

It takes Spock precisely five seconds to comprehend that Dr. McCoy has just made him an offer of friendship. He has no response for that which isn't some form of disbelief, so he quickly jabs the call button for the turbolift.

"What's the matter, Spock?" McCoy teases, placing his hands behind his back and bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Cat got your tongue?"

"I should have known," Spock quips back, unable to ignore such an opportunity, "that the trouble you were determined to bring to my attention included yourself."

For some odd reason, McCoy bursts out laughing.

Spock's alarm has all but disappeared by the time the turbolift arrives. For once, there is no shame in admitting to himself that what he currently feels is pleasure.

Leonard McCoy is a friend.

* * *

Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork.

James T. Kirk's life consists of paperwork, naps, and more paperwork. He tries to fit the naps in between the paperwork as often as possible.

As his yeoman enters his office, he waves the data padd in his hand at her and demands to know, "How can the human race be so technologically advanced to fly around in _space ships_ yet can't figure out how to operate without paperwork!"

"I don't think that was a question, sir," the yeoman tells him politely. She adds another two PADDs to his stack. "These reports came through this afternoon from Engineering and Requisitions."

He presses the data padd's screen against his face, barely managing to stifle a whimper.

The woman in front of him snaps her fingers when she's had enough of his despair, and by the time Jim looks up, she is holding out another one of those infernal devices.

"You'll want this one," he is promised.

Jim can't think of any reason he wants another form to sign, unless it is a petition to end paperwork forever.

The PADD has nothing remotely like a report on its screen, only a vid ready to be played. Curious now, Jim activates the holoscreen.

He watches the video, his tension headache fading to the background. Then he watches it a second time.

The yeoman—an intelligent woman named Janice Rand, who has been the only yeoman to serve him more than three months without quitting—puts her hands on her hips and smiles.

"How did you get this?" he asks.

"If I told you all my secrets, Captain, you'd have no more use for me."

"Not true," he immediately counters. "I'm thinking about reassigning you to Covert Operations."

Rand snorts. "You don't have a Covert Operations onboard."

"It's so covert, no one knows about it but me," Jim rejoins, grinning. He places the PADD aside. "Good work, Yeoman. I hope it's understood no one else should know about this... situation but us."

"Of course, sir. I would never tell a soul."

Jim hands her a padd full of reports he has already finished and watches her leave. Then he leans back in his chair, grinning again, and laces his fingers behind his head.

So, Spock and McCoy think they're going to be friends without anyone (namely Jim) being the wiser. Oh but they should know better. Jim has been looking forward to this day for a long, long time. In fact, no one knows just how much groundwork he has laid to encourage that particular friendship to blossom. But to be fair, Bones only needed a little coaxing to keep an eye on Spock, and Spock never seemed completely immune to Jim's lauding of McCoy's scientific brilliance.

Jim had been especially pleased when they started chatting regularly in Spock's office and not always about work-related matters—or so he has heard. It would be, of course, improper to eavesdrop on their conversations.

Because he does draw that line, he often wonders what it is that Spock and McCoy have discovered that they have in common. And just what is so important this time that it prompted them to take a meal together in public?

Hm, thinks Jim. Perhaps it really is time to start his own Covert Operations.

He pushes away from his desk, decided.

Mission One: engage targets in unsuspecting manner. Re: Insinuate Self into Science Blues' Lunch Date. Details of mission to be determined as needed during engagement.

Maybe he'll pretend to be sneaking into the cafeteria for a piece of cake on his off-duty hour. That will certainly catch the attention of his quarry, especially since McCoy, Jim learned years ago, comes equipped with cake-sneaking radar.

As a backup plan, he grabs a data padd and tucks it under his arm. Vulcans can't resist conversation about paperwork.

Armed and dangerous, James Kirk heads out on his self-appointed mission to celebrate—and infiltrate—what he considers to be the fortuitous start of a beautiful relationship.

 _-Fini_


End file.
